Daddy Day
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Somewhere between talks of Steph's book, living off the land, how attracted he is to himself, and just how stupid most the games his daughers come up with are, Paul learns to look before crossing the road. And that his wife doesn't like him sending her nudes as much as he thought she did. - One-shot.


"Rora, this sounds like a really dumb game."

"Daddy-"

"I'm sorry," the man grumbled as he sat on the floor of the girls' playroom, halfway speaking with his oldest, mostly playing dolls with his youngest, and partially paying attention to what his middle daughter was doing, which was coloring over on the other side of the room, concerned that if he took his eyes off her, she'd disappear.

She'd had quite the problem with going outside, recently, without permission.

Of course, they lived on a gated property and their big, bad Mastiff was always lurking somewhere around the property, but still, she could fall into the pool or try and leave the gate or...just anything.

He liked her right where she was; in his eyesight.

"But it's true," the man contented as Aurora glared. "This game is boring."

"It's not boring. You're being mean! You're playing dolls with Vaughn, but won't play with me."

"I don't think Rora's games are boring, Daddy." Murphy looked up from her coloring book with a frown. "That's mean."

Looking up from where she was making one of her Triple H action figures get run over by a toy car (so, she'd insisted to him when he'd complained the last time they enacted this, that Barbie nurse can make him better again), Vaughn said, "You're mean, Daddy."

"You be quiet, you," he ordered, frowning down at the blonde, which got a giggle from her, just from the look on his face. "You enjoy hitting people with cars. You're the mean one."

"She'll nurse him all better again," Vaughn insisted which was kind of what happened last time; Triple H actually wound up finding out that he was paralyzed and went to live with Barbie nurse, which led to Paul questioning Steph on just what sort of shows she was watching when the girls around and suggesting that maybe she keep the chick flicks away from his girls, at least for a few more years. "Daddy."

"Maybe you could just teach Hunter to look both way before crossing the street," he grumbled as Vaughn moved to roll the little ambulance car over as well.

It hit the Triple H doll too.

Even his action figures had horrible luck with McMahon women.

"He's a stupid boy." The ambulance car was really tiny, as it was from a Hot Wheels set, but Vaughn just held the action figure on top of the little car as she rolled it over to the designated hospital area.

Barbie nurse was waiting there for him.

"Stupid boys can learn how to-"

"You're not," Aurora complained again, still glaring, "paying attention to me. You said that you would, but you're not."

Ugh. She sounded like Steph.

"Fine, Rora, we'll play your game," Paul grumbled as he shifted across the floor, over to where Vaughn had moved Triple H to the hospital. "Ask your question."

It was a dumb game. A girl game. He didn't know it, but it definitely didn't seem like boys would force him into doing, if he'd had sons.

Rora had a name for it, but he didn't care to remember it. Basically, she'd present him with two undesirable options and he had to pick one. And that was fun. Because, you know, girls.

Or something.

Nine year olds were weird.

Somewhere between answering all of Aurora's questions which had an odd amount of zombie related things twinged in there and breaking it to Vaughn that no, he didn't have a Triple H action figure that could pop it's leg off and on (she wanted him to be an amputee for some reason or other) and that he'd really appreciate it if she stopped running him over with cars (Barbie nurse was taking him home and, bam, the taxi ran him over; her plot points were becoming as rehashed as her granddad's…) , Murphy disappeared.

One minute she was in the corner of the big play room, coloring, and the next, the coloring book was there, but his daughter was gone.

"Murph!" Paul called over one of Rora's questions (which, of course, got a grumble from the girl about how he was, once more, ignoring her). "Where are you?"

No answer.

Great.

"Did you see where your sister went?" he asked as he got to his feet. "Aurora? Because if she went outside again-"

"I went to get Mommy," came a complain from the hall. "You said not to go outside without askin', so I don't. Ever. You just say that I do."

And Steph was coming into the room then, still dressed from work earlier as she'd only come home to do the same thing. She had on her glasses though that he enjoyed seeing her in and, unable to help himself, he made a face.

"She go bother you?" he asked as he fell back to the floor, surrounded by the assortment of toys the girls had. "Steph? And you do go outside, Murphy, even when you're not supposed to."

"Do not."

She was hanging off Stephanie's hip, arms wrapped tightly around her mother, and only made a face at her father. He had no problem with returning the mug with one of his own.

"Do too."

"Do-"

"She didn't bother me," Stephanie cut them off because, honestly, they could go at it all night. Giggling, Murphy let go of her mother to go pounce on her father.

He didn't let her tackle him to the ground, given that Vaughn had hard toy cars scattered about, all waiting to hit poor Triple H, but did let out a fake groan of pain as she landed in his lap.

"You're bad," he accused once more.

Murphy only gave Vaughn some of that strong eye game she got from her mother, as if daring her younger sister to try and pull rank (because younger outweighed older, typically; she should know, she did it to Aurora constantly) by laying claim to their father in the moment. Vaughn, however, didn't realize this, as she was very busy running a huge monster truck over poor Triple H after Barbie nurse went back into the hospital to get help since the taxi ran over him.

Paul was starting to worry that his daughter might be acting out some sort of hidden rage against him.

Or at least against poor Hunter…

Maybe he was spending too much time up at the office recently or something.

"I," Steph was going on as she went to sit over on the couch in the big room, Aurora giving up on getting proper attention from her father (Murphy had pulled rank on her, as it was turning out, quite efficiently) and going to join her, "was actually working on my book."

"That's how come you couldn't come play kill Triple H in a hundred ways or less?"

"Um, what?" Steph was settling into the couch, Aurora snuggled up against her, and only frowned down at the others as they sat on the floor. "Paul?"

"Vaughn, here, thinks that I should be hit by a car. Again. Forever. Always. Constantly."

"Not you, Daddy." At the moment, she was crawling across the floor to get to one of the toy boxes that sat against the wall, apparently needing even more things to decimate Hunter with. When she pulled out a shark, he drew the line. "Daddy doll."

"Yeah, well, Daddy doll don't wanna be eaten by a shark," he grumbled. "So-"

"I was just gonna take a break," Steph was continuing to go on for some reason.

Well, not some reason. Paul knew the reason. Because he was in high demand at the moment and she was staking her claim as well.

It was hard, dealing with four girls constantly. If one needed attention, they all needed attention.

Incidentally, when one didn't want him, it seemed that none did, which were typically the moments where he actually wanted to hang out with them.

Go figure.

"From writing," his wife said as Aurora seemed to be the only one really listening to her. "I was just so into it, but then I thought of something and I sort of wanted to talk to you about it."

"Who? Me?" Paul looked up from nuzzling his head against Murphy's (though she was pretending quite heavily as if it were annoying her, she actually was enjoying it a bunch). "What about?"

"Just stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Just," she insisted as Aurora glanced back and forth between the two of them, "stuff."

"Steph, if you can't say it in front of my best friends," he said, nodding over at Rora before down at Murph and Vaughn, "then you might as well not say it."

"Oh brother."

"I'm serious." He let Murphy go then as she wiggled out of his hold, his attention fully on his wife then. "They're very capable of hearing whatever it is; or at least incapable of comprehending it, otherwise."

Which, actually, was probably very true.

"I just want to talk about...us."

"Us."

"In my book."

"Oh. Me then, you mean?" He turned his attention back to Vaughn then, making a face when she came back to the poor Daddy action figure, holding a toy dump truck, promptly running him over with it. "You gonna talk about me?"

"That was implied when I started writing the book, but yes, of course."

"If it was implied-"

"I mean, I assumed it was."

"-then what do you want to talk about?"

"Just some specifics."

"Specifics," he repeated slowly as Vaughn handed over Triple H to him, instructing the man that Barbie nurse was taking him to _another_ hospital where there wouldn't be so many cars that could run him over. As he crawled across the floor with her to another part of the room where, hopefully, his action figure wouldn't be in nearly as much danger, he asked, "What kind of specifics? Steph?"

"Just...I don't know. Are you comfortable? With me sharing anything?"

"Define anything."

"I would, but your best friends are all here, so-"

"You do realize that eventually, one day, they'll probably read your book. Right? So if it's not something you ever want them to- Hey! Murphy! Don't you go out that door," he cut himself off then, frowning as his middle daughter attempted to make her escape. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To go play in my room." She didn't even look back at him. Brat."You only wanna play with your toy."

"I do not. I'm getting, literally, zero entertainment out of running my self over with cars." Paul wasn't sure how to make this more clear. To all of them. He wasn't enjoying Vaughn's insistence over torturing Triple H any more than he was Rora's stupid game or Murphy's...whatever it was he was doing with her. "So get back here."

"No. You're boring."

"How am I boring?" He frowned as she only headed out of the room. "I'm not boring. I- Vaughn, enough. There's no way that a car ran him over inside of the hospital. The other hospital. The second one. That he had to go to. So knock it off."

She made a face up at him. "You're not fun, Daddy."

Scoffing then, he said, "You're only saying that because of what your sister said."

So?

And for the record, she was saying it because he wasn't enjoying the bodily harm that she was causing to poor Daddy doll.

"Ooh, I have to take this." And Steph was bouncing up then, as her phone rang and leaving the room. Aurora, for some reason, got right up to follow her.

"Rora," he called after her, but she didn't stop either.

Then it was just him, his baby, and her desire to murder poor Hunter.

Sitting there, with his legs crossed, he felt a bit like a child, but mostly just depressed. Vaughn, who was busy then having Barbie nurse test just how many bones Triple H had broken by, of course, stepping on all of them to see if he screamed (it made sense, don't question it), took notice of his down turned lips after a minute or two.

"What's wrong? Daddy?" she asked, crawling across the pile of toys that Paul had a feeling he'd let get too big and he'd have to fight her to get put up when playtime was finished for the day. "Is your tummy sick?"

"What? No."

"You look like your tummy's sick," she said as she sat at his side, on her knees, resting her palms against one of his thighs as she leaned forwards, staring up at the man. "Or you're sad. Are you sad?"

Glancing down at his five year old, he shook his head a bit, not wanting to admit that, actually, he was a bit disappointed to be proven right, once more, as all it took was Murphy to find disinterest in him and then, bam! Steph was busy and Rora couldn't even be bothered to tell him whatever it was she was doing.

Not wishing to share this with his youngest, Paul said, instead, "I'm not sad, silly. I'm just disappointed."

"Dis," she sounded out, "apoint...ed."

"Yeah."

This was a new word and she repeated it, a few times, under her breath, before realizing that she didn't know what it meant.

So she asked.

"It means that someone did something that I didn't think they'd do and it hurt my feelings."

"Oh." Obviously, this wasn't about her. Because she'd never do anything like that. Leaning even further up, she asked, "Was it Murphy?"

"No."

That made no sense to Vaughn. It was always Murphy.

Always.

"It was you."

Or her. Honestly, yeah, no, as he said it, that kind of made sense.

"How?"

"You keep trying to kill me," he said, gesturing to where she'd left Barbie nurse and Daddy doll. "And that's not nice."

"I don't kill you, Daddy," she said with a frown.

"Well, I know, you're not...killing me." He didn't even know if she really understood the meaning to that word either. "But you keep running my doll over with cars and-"

"That's not you. That's Daddy doll."

"Yeah, which is me."

Shaking her head, she said, "It's Trip…Trip…" She frowned, as if unsure how to say the word. Then, with a grin, she said, "That's Triple H."

"I know. I'm Triple H."

"Not that one."

He blinked. Then he frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"That's not you." She pointed at the poor action figure that had been subjected to her torture for the past hour or so. "Daddy."

"Of course it is. I'm Triple H, Vaughn, you know that."

She knew this.

Kind of.

In a basic way.

Still, she nodded. "I know."

"Then-"

"But not that Triple H."

"Well, yeah, Vaughn, I'm not a dang doll, but-"

"No," she continued to insist. "You're not that one."

"Baby, I don't understand."

So she shoved away from him then, moving across the floor to her toy box once more. Paul about told her not to do whatever it was that she was doing, given that she had more than enough toys littering the floor as it was, but he was actually interested, so he kept quiet.

Plus, he was kind of rare to tell his girls no when he wasn't in a foul mood.

And around them, he hardly ever was in one anyhow.

"This," Vaughn said, coming back over to him with another action figure in her hand, "is you, Daddy. Triple H Daddy."

It was one of the newer action figures of him. Steph called it the _Corporate_ Assassin, Triple H, but it was basically just him in a suit.

"You've seen me wrestle before," he argued, reaching over then to pick up the toy she'd been running over with every toy car they owned. "You know that I don't just wear suits to work. I wear a...speedo and arm pads and-"

"I know."

"Then what aren't you getting?"

She sat in front of him then, waving the newer version of him in his face. "This is Daddy. That's not."

"But why?" He muttered that, more than asked her aloud, glancing down then at the action figures. If the attire wasn't what was bothering her… Frowning, he glanced at his daughter before saying, "The only thing different would be...my hair?"

Vaughn just stared. "That's not you."

"But that is me. I used to have hair. You were alive when I had hair! You've seen photos of me with hair! And videos of me wrestling! And-"

"That is Triple H Daddy." She sat down the newer action figure before moving to snatch the other from his hand. "And this is Triple H."

Paul wasn't sure what to make of this. At all. Still, it did relieve him a bit to find out that Vaughn didn't considering it an extension of him that she was running over with cars. Just a different Triple H all together.

You know, considering that stunt Vince pulled that time with the phony Diesel and Razor Ramon, she wasn't so far off what could have occurred.

"Do you know that our daughter doesn't remember what I looked like with hair?"

Stephanie, who was already in bed much later that night and had had no intentions of being woken up by her husband, only groaned against her pillow, "No."

"Well, she doesn't. Can you believe that?"

"Which one is it?"

"Vaughn."

"Then yeah, actually."

Hours had passed since Paul got stuck playing toys with Vaughn. Many of them, in fact. Steph, after leaving the playroom, had locked herself in her office for awhile, which left Paul on dinner duty as it was their maid's day off.

And on Daddy Days, there was only one thing to do for dinner; something greasy and nasty and not at all what Steph would let them eat (or that he'd ever put in his own body). So they went out, he and his girls, leaving Steph alone with her dog to work on her autobiography and spend some quality time together that did _not_ involve running toy versions of him over with cars.

He did have to play Aurora's stupid question game again though.

And Murphy insisted that they get ice cream after dinner, which he didn't want to do, because he felt they'd eaten enough junk just from their burgers and fries, but she kept playing up the fact that he was leaving in the morning, for work, and that they wouldn't see him for two whole days and didn't he owe them something for that?

At least?

Daddy?

Girls were annoying.

Stephanie was still in her office, when they got back, so he got the girls all ready for bed (the older they got, this got equal parts less complicated as it did more; they were at the age where they could do most of the stuff such as baths and changing into pajamas themselves, but at the same time were old enough to vehemently fight him on such things and, well, that was always bothersome) alone, his wife only coming out to tuck them in.

Other than that though, he and Steph didn't see much of one another, as he went down to their basement gym to blow off some steam and she went back to her office to be alone.

It wasn't until he strode into the bedroom, informing her of Vaughn's naivety, that the two truly spoke.

And even then Stephanie didn't really want to.

He was leaving though, in the morning, for Orlando, so they needed to spend some time together.

He decided.

That moment.

It was just the way that it had to be.

"What," he asked Steph as he went around the bedroom, getting ready for bed, "makes that believable?"

She groaned as he headed into the adjoining bathroom, leaving the door open. It wasn't so much the idea of him possibly (read definitely) going to the bathroom in front of her (or at least without some solid wood between them) that bothered the woman, as she'd see this before. A lot.

Being together for over a decade wasn't easy.

Rather, it was the fact that the light from the bathroom was spilling in and keeping her up and it was just...ugh.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she said, "She was, what? Two when you went bald?"

"I didn't go bald. I cut my hair."

"Bald."

"Not immediately."

"Bald Daddy is the only Daddy she knows."

"That sounds gross."

Steph just moaned. "I'm tired, Paul. Just-"

"She thought that the Triple H toy with long hair wasn't me. That it was another Triple H. That there were two. Of me."

"Ugh, I couldn't even imagine." Steph hummed. "Two attitudes-"

"I don't have an attitude-"

"-two guys always in my money-"

"I was never in your money."

"-and two self-absorbed pricks always trying to prove they're the best wrestler ever-"

"I am. Flat out. No need to prove anything."

Stephanie let out a long sigh then. "I mean, the sex drive alone on you both-"

"Obviously," she heard him grumble over the sound of the toilet flushing, "we'd fuck you both at the same time."

"Ew. It'd be like having a threesome with yourself."

"I wouldn't...touch the other me."

"All those implications."

"I just said that we wouldn't touch one another. We'd just both- Shut up, Steph." She made him shudder. "Just...We were talking about Murphy."

"Yeah, I really don't want to now that you put that other imagery in my head."

"You put it in your own head, creep."

"How am I a creep? You're my husband. I can think about you doing anything to me that I want."

"Yeah, okay."

"Yeah, okay is right." Steph sounded indignant about that. "And would you close the door? Or hit the light? Or something? I'm trying to sleep."

"You're the one bringing up your fantasies about me-"

"That is _not_ a fantasy of mine. At all." Steph shifted on the bed a bit, giving into the fact that he just wasn't going to leave her alone. "It's kind of incest, isn't it? You and yourself-"

"You McMahons should be the experts on that."

"I don't get the reference to that-"

"Your creepy father trying to write it in that he fathered-"

"-but I'm going to ignore it."

"And I said that I wouldn't touch myself! That the other me and I would just-"

"Still weird. If you had a twin brother, you wouldn't think it would be weird for you and him to both even sleep with the same woman? Let alone at the same time? I mean-"

"I don't look that different without my hair, was my point." Paul was coming into the room then, clad in only his briefs, knocking off the bathroom light while he was at it. "And how could Vaughn be five and not know that I'm the guy that she sees in the old tapes? Huh? Or-"

"It probably just didn't connect for her is all." Steph peeked an eye open as he came to crawl into his side of the bed. Her back was to it, but he fixed this by curling right up to her. "Why does it bother you so much?"

"It doesn't."

"Clearly does."

One arm falling over her stomach, he pulled her tight back against his chest as he breathed against her ear, "It was just...weird. To think about that. It hasn't been that long, has it? Since I had my hair? And wasn't in the office so much?"

"Of course not, baby." She patted the hand that laid over her stomach. "She's just young. Easily confused."

"I'm not old."

"I know."

"I could grow my hair back. If I wanted."

"Mmmm."

"And I'm not boring."

"Of course not."

For a moment, they just laid there.

"Or attracted to myself."

"Paul, shush. Go to sleep." She didn't want to play with him that night. "I'm tired."

The back of her ear got a nibble. Then, against it, "Course. Night."

Steph patted his hand again. "Though, I guess, really, we probably could talk about what I wanted to before-"

"Not without my best friends."

"Shut up. After the conversation we've had going for the past five minutes, you'd think you'd realize why that argument doesn't hold up."

"It does when you're talking about something that I don't want to."

"You don't even know what I want to talk about."

That was true. He just kind of assumed he wouldn't care for the topic (he had a small group of interest that included work, body building, rock music, and his girls, with some sports sprinkled in there), but maybe he would.

Steph said it was about him.

And he liked to talk about himself.

Or at least hear her brag on him.

Something told him, however, that that wasn't what they were going to be doing…

"What is it then?" Her ear got another kiss. "Steph?"

"Just...I'm writing about, like, everything."

"I know."

"About growing up and stuff."

"I know."

"And...now too."

"Yeah, Stephanie, I know."

"And that includes...me and you."

"Right. And how much you love me and how awesome I am and-"

"Be serious."

"Says the woman that's apparently been having fantasies about-"

" _You_ started that. Not me."

He patted her stomach as her hands played with his much bigger one. "Go on. I think you were about to talk about the erotic pieces you're gonna include in your book-"

"Oh yeah." Her tone was so dead that he didn't have to see the eye roll to know it was there. "That's what I'm going to write about."

"You used to tell radio shows about how fucking hot our sex life was."

"I was asked and I was answered."

"So if someone asked you now-"

"We have kids now. No. Gross. That's disgusting."

He actually concurred with her. And would be pretty pissy, as a man going on forty-seven if he heard some guy ask his wife something provocative. More so, at least, than he would have in his early thirties.

"I see your little comments," he teased anyways. "On your workout videos. You know, I never properly appreciated just how hot you were until it was pointed out to me by horny teenage boys that imply I'm unworthy of you. Now though? Now I see it."

"Like you don't get dumb comments like that too."

"From horny teenage boys? I sure hope not."

"All those women talking about how ripped you are-"

"I am in the best shape of my life, sure."

"And how they want you to fuck them, _Daddy_."

He scrunched up his nose. "Ew."

"Shut up. You get off on it."

"I don't think you can get off on something that your daughters call you." Then he paused. "Unless you're V-"

"I'll elbow you and kick you out to the couch."

His grip tightened around her as he said, "Besides, babe, I try and hide those from you."

"Mmmm."

"Don't want you getting jealous over nothing."

"So I don't have to worry about any dick pics popping up on the internet that you sent to some other woman?"

"Not unless you're showing me off."

"Why do you sound so proud at that idea?"

"Why shouldn't I? You should want others to see me. In fact," he breathed in her ear, "include some in your little book, huh?"

"Try no? And this better not be your way of telling me that you, like, send around photos of me or something to your friends."

"What friends? The girls? They're my only friends."

"You're so full of it."

He buried his head in her shoulder. "I love you, Steph. Good-"

"No. You're not getting out of talking this way. You're just not."

Sigh.

"Alright then," he gave in, that easily. "What was it that we were gonna talk about? Something about us?"

"Yeah and..." Steph was shifting in his arms then. "About how we...got together and about...how much you want me to share."

Oh.

Paul's arms stiffened a bit, holding her still then, as he thought. Then, softly, he said, "Tell whatever you want. It's your book."

"Yeah, but it's your life too," she said softly. "And if you don't feel comfortable-"

"Anything that I've never...explicitly stated or said was because of you, Steph. I know how you don't like for… And the past is the past and all that, so… I don't care, what people think about me. Or what I did to get where I am. With you. Or in the company. Or whatever hell else you might worry about. They can all kiss my ass."

Trying to lighten the mood, she said softly, "These fantasies are getting wilder and wilder."

Still, his tone was rather serious as he said, "I mean, don't go stirring shit up for no reason-"

"I wouldn't."

"But...the truth is the truth. And whatever part of that you want to share with people-"

"Then you don't care if I tell them all about how you proposed?"

Paul blinked. Then again. Then he glared down at the woman in his arms. "What?"

"I was worried that you'd think that was, you know, too personal. And I know how you can get embarrassed. That's why I didn't even bring it up in front of the girls. You always get so red in the face whenever I tell them about the cute things you do and get all embarrassed-"

"I don't get embarrassed. Ever."

The next part she kind of sped through as she said, "And I kind of sort of wanna share some of those love notes too that I used to give you and-"

"See? I knew you were going to wind up somewhere-"

"They're so cute."

"So you led this whole conversation, kept me in the dark on it this whole time, just to ask about some damn love letters? And me proposing? And not...how we...really got together?" It had been awhile since it had come up, but still he said, "The cheating or whatever?"

"Oh. That."

Making a face, he mimicked, "Yeah. That."

Steph shifted in his arms fully then, so that they could face one another. Paul was giving her a look that made her grin sheepishly.

"Is that where you thought this was going?"

"Given the way that you were talking, yeah, a bit."

"Because yeah, you know, thinking back, I can see why you might have thought that."

"Maybe just a bit."

Then they were just lying there, staring at one another, and he removed his arm from around her, but it was only so that he could press his thumb into her nose, making her scrunch it up in response.

"I figured," she told him after a few moments, "that I would just, you know, write whatever I wanted about that and surprise you with it later when you start getting asked questions about it in interviews and things."

"Not a fan of that idea."

"Well, you're a person who enjoys the idea of hooking up with yourself so-"

"You're really pushing it tonight."

"I was sleeping," she reminded, "before you rudely woke me up to have this damn conversation."

"Still doesn't mean you can be an ass about this."

Too tired to continue playing with him, she only let out a long breath before saying, "I don't know what I'm going to say about this whole thing, Paul. I haven't got there. I was just, you know, going through some stuff in my office and found one of the letters and I just… I don't know. It's like reliving a lot of stuff that we don't talk about that often."

"Say what you want." He actually did have to get up in the morning and needed his sleep as well. Just to annoy her, he leaned forwards to press a very big kiss on her head. Then, against it, he said, "I mean, I know you want to hurry and sleep so that you can dream about two mes, both taking you-"

"That is so gross."

"It's not gross. Remember? Since I'm your husband. Your words."

Were they? She couldn't recall.

"I meant just in general."

"You're such a prude."

"Oh?"

"Completely."

"Not all of us can be man enough, I will admit," she teased as he fell to his back, "to admit that they're sexually attracted to themselves."

That time he didn't say anything. Just laughed, deeply, but softly, as a huge smile etched itself on his lips.

"You gonna write that," he finally got out, "in your book?"

"Mmmm...I'll consider it."

"A whole chapter dedicated to it, is what it deserves," he told her.

"My Two Husbands; Paul's Erotic Fantasies about Hunter."

She peeked an eye open that time, being rewarded by the sight of him silently laughing, head lulled to the side to stare over at her.

"You're too much for me," he said with a grin. "Steph."

"That's why there needs to be two of you."

"All that sex drive."

"See? That's what I'm saying."

"Stephanie?"

"What?"

Watching her as her eyes slipped shut once more, he only said, "When you put those dick pics in your book, please don't use any recent ones."

She giggled too, but it was tiredly, before saying, "Considering the most recent one I've gotten was, like, two years ago-"

"You never seem responsive to them."

"Um, because I'm almost forty years old and, at this point, have a pretty good idea what it looks like, so-"

"Just use the old ones, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, let me go dig out my old Blackberry and find those pictures."

"Not far enough back. Bring out the Nokia."

"Shut up, Paul."

"You should have uploaded them to your hard drive by now," he grumbled. "On your laptop. What? I spent all that time sending those-"

"What time? You literally just shove down your boxers and snap a picture. That's not-"

"Uh, babe, back in those days, I was not tech savvy."

"And you are now?"

"I went out of my way to learn how to text, because you wanted to. How to send pictures of myself, because you asked for them."

"I never did that. You just sent them." Then she frowned. "And we weren't even dating then, when that became a thing. We were married. So, no, I definitely wasn't asking for any of that." Then, after a pause, "Other than the texting thing. That was admittedly me."

"You're precious."

"And you're running out of ways to keep me awake."

"Can you tell that's what I'm doing?"

Nodding a bit, she snuggled against her pillow as she said, "And I'd appreciate it if you stopped and went to bed. We have to get up in-"

"I just wanna spend some time with you. Like this."

"Like this?"

"Like this."

Just them. Together. Joking and talking and nothing serious being said, not really. They missed out on that a lot, actually. To be one of the rare couples that enjoyed one another's company, they were sadly rarely given any to treasure. Both had ever-growing responsibilities with the company and then their daughters added in, so a lot of their alone time, shut away in their room, got spent...well…

But having some time to just lay around and...be was nice too.

Not as nice as the other, of course, but better in certain ways.

Plus, he knew that Steph was too tired to be weaseled into the former. He'd gladly settle for the latter.

Moaning a bit, she said, "You're the one that couldn't just retire from wrestling and stay at home and be my bitch."

"Is that what happened?"

"That's what happened."

"Because I don't ever remember that being the plan to begin with."

"No?"

"No."

"That would be my real fantasy."

"Would it?"

"For you to stay at home and just wait around for me?" Steph let out a cute snort. "Yeah, definitely."

"You're such a liar."

"How?"

"You like me working at your Daddy's company."

"Don't call him that. It sounds...nasty coming out of your mouth."

"But it was okay when you were talking about me getting comments calling me that?"

"It happens."

"Why are you scrolling through my Twitter anyways?"

"Uh, because I'm married to you?"

Hmmm.

Reaching over, he patted her on the head. "You like me working there. Taking care of business. It makes you hot."

"Does it?"

"It makes me hot, to watch you work."

"To sit around and listen to scripts and deal with board meetings? Watching me do that makes you hot?"

"Unbelievably so. Even a decade out."

"Paul, I think that just mean that you find me attractive in general."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"No way."

"Only explanation."

"Maybe I-"

"Paul, go to bed." That time she turned her back on him when she shifted. "Before I go get Bluto and let him sleep in your spot."

"Where would I sleep?"

"We have a guest room."

"I call it Paul's real room."

"Another chapter for my book."

"Mmmm. Can't we just talk all night?" he asked her softly. "Like when we were young?"

"Considering back then all you had to do was worry about shows and I mostly just dealt with filing stuff-"

"And firing people. Don't forget that. Include it in your book."

"-and now we have to get up, get the girls ready for the day, get them to school, and then deal with work for me and you're gonna be heading down to Florida," Steph finished, "no. We can't."

"We should plan it that way. On our next vacation."

"Paul, you conk out, at the latest now, by two in the morning."

"I'm old."

"Not too old, baby," she repeated from earlier. "At all."

"For what?"

"For me."

"Ah. That is the most important thing. After all." Pause. "Steph? I know you couldn't have fallen asleep that quickly, you know."

She couldn't. But when she wouldn't respond to him anymore, he decided to just be kind and let her sleep.

Plus he felt like drifting off himself…

The next morning was as hectic as all mornings. Paul got up a bit earlier than usual, to get in a good shower and make sure he had everything ready to go for his few days out of town. He tried hard not to wake up Steph while getting this done, but it turned out not to matter as, just as he was tiptoeing out of the shower, Murphy came strolling into the bedroom, ever the early riser, to awaken her mother herself.

Steph was less than appreciative.

"C'mon," he said after letting the girl bother Steph for a few minutes, just long enough for him to get some pants and a t-shirt on and check his bag to be sure it was prepped. Coming over to the bed, he let his middle daughter climb up on his back before carrying her out of the room, leaving a more thankful Stephanie behind. "Let's go make coffee, silly."

"Yuck."

"It's not for you."

"Still yucky."

She liked piggyback rides though and nuzzled her head against him as her arms wrapped tighter around his neck.

Downstairs, Bluto was up and needed to be let out, so it was a pretty good thing that Paul had gotten up early, he figured. The beast was most appreciative.

"Can I go outside with Bluto?"

"It's still dark out, silly." After letting him out the backdoor, Paul went to drop Murphy at the kitchen table. "You'll have all day to play outside."

"Na-ah." She made a face at him. "I gotta go to school."

"You get recess, don't you?"

"...No."

"Murphy-"

"I like outside," she told him as, through a yawn, he went to get the coffee going. "A lot. I wanna live out there."

"Baby, Daddy worked his whole life to get you the coolest house ever. And you'd rather live outside?"

"Not your whole life."

"Yes, I did."

"You're still alive," she reasoned as he only made a face back at her. "So not the whole thing."

"The whole thing up to this- That's not the point."

What was the point?

Hmmm.

"I could live in a tent," his daughter kept up. "With Bluto. Or in a sleepin' bag. And I'd still come visit you."

"Babe, if you're just outside, I really don't see how that would have ever been called into question."

That was because he was naive. Definitely.

"And Bluto isn't your dog, you know," he went on. "He's the family dog. And he likes to sleep inside."

"He'll be in inside a tent!"

"Not so loud," Paul chided gently as, once the coffee was on, he moved through the still dark kitchen over to the fridge. "You want some juice?"

Always.

Popping out of her chair to go get a cup (because she was the best at helping; she just was), Murphy told him, "I like being outside a lot, Daddy."

"I know. And that's fine. But you can't...live there. And you can't go out there when you haven't asked."

"But if I lived there, then I wouldn't have to ask."

"I don't get why you want to live outside anyways," he complained as she brought him her special cup from where it sat on the counter. Each girl had one. Mainly because each was so damn possessive over their shit. You let one drink out of the others cup and they'd have a damn fight. "At all."

"Because I love it."

"Just because you love it doesn't mean that you have to live out there. You can appreciate it from afar."

"You love Mommy. And you live with her."

"Only half the time, silly." After pouring her a glass of orange juice, he bent down to hand it to her. "The rest I'm on the road and far away from her. It's part of the-"

"I'm up, you know."

Oh, he knew, even before Steph grumbled that and came into the kitchen, red eyes and all.

It was, after all, the reason he said it.

"I thought you were gonna go back to sleep?" Paul asked in fake shock as he stared over at her with his mouth agape. She only flicked on the kitchen light, getting a glare from her daughter for this transgression, before coming over to them.

"I couldn't after someone who will remain nameless," Steph sighed, coming to a stop in front of her husband, "woke me up."

"Me?" Murphy frowned up at her. "You should already been up! Daddy was."

"That's because I'm more efficient than her. I don't need near as much sleep." Paul patted Murphy on the head before pushing it gently. "Go watch TV in the living room, huh? Only for a little bit though. Then we have to get ready to go, okay?"

It was the calm before the storm, both Steph and Paul knew that, as the second they awoke the other two and let the dog back in the house, the day would truly begin. But standing there, him in his slacks and undershirt and her still in what she wore to bed, they had a good twenty minutes before that started, just to themselves.

And Murphy, as they were reminded, when the sound of the television being flicked on somewhere else in the house could be heard.

It only made them both smile though.

"Did you know," he asked as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, "that our daughter wants to live outside?"

"No."

"Can you believe it?"

"Which daughter?"

"Murphy."

"Yes."

Paul leaned down to nuzzle his head against hers. "That joke was funnier the first time."

"Now we need one for Aurora."

Grunt. Then, "Did you know that our daughter won't stop annoying me with some stupid chick game that-"

"It's not a…chick, game. I think it's just a kid thing in general." She patted at his chest. "And you shouldn't be so mean, Daddy. She could just not play with you at all."

"That's not a fair situation though. Either I play something I don't like or I don't get her at all?"

"It's called having kids, Paul. You'd think you'd be more accustomed to it by now."

Moving away from her then, he went to let Bluto back into the house. Over his shoulder, he said, "You gonna make me somethin' to eat? Before I go?"

"You can fry yourself an egg."

"Maybe I don't wanna. Maybe I like 'em the way you fry 'em."

"But the girls won't be up for another half hour," she griped though he didn't have to glance over his shoulder to know she was moving to open the fridge and pull the carton of eggs out. He did though, glance, because, you know, Steph's ass and all. "And I'll have to do it all over again."

"I keep telling you, hire a live-in."

"Why? So you can sleep with her?"

"Do what you usually do; hire 'em super old."

"But you're getting super old. At this point, unless I go for seventy and above, they're in your wheelhouse."

"The only thing in my wheelhouse, babe, is standing in front of the fridge, about to make me something to eat."

"Uh-huh."

Bluto was rushing in then though (or at least trying; he was getting rather up there in years) and headed right over to his mother and passed his poor father who, you know, had been the one to take him to the potty and let him back in.

Not that Paul was keep track or anything…

Vaughn, about twenty minutes later, informed them all after waking up that she wasn't going to go to to school that day.

It just wasn't for her.

"I wanna go on the trip with you, Daddy." She looked up from scrambling up her already scrambled eggs to grin at him. "Go on the plane and go to Florida. School's borin'."

Murphy, through a mouthful of her own breakfast, got out, "So is Daddy."

Ugh.

Paul was standing over at the coffee pot, getting one last cup for the road, and only glanced back at the table with a frown. Aurora was in the shower, getting ready, and Steph was somewhere else too, doing the same, so it was just him and his babies. Murphy, even with the head start of, oh, half an hour, was still in her pjs and Vaughn hadn't even been bothered to brush her teeth.

She had, however, managed to find that Triple H she'd spent the previous after school day running over with trucks and such. It sat on the table, next to her plate and, heading over there, Paul picked it up.

"Hey," Vaughn complained as he held it above her head. Reaching up for it after dropping her fork, she complained, "Daddy, give it back!"

"This isn't even my most appealing action figure. I mean look at his face. My nose isn't that big."

He was glad Steph wasn't around. She'd have let him know that the figure was, if anything, undersized in that department. Which might have led to some sly jab about her boob job, might not have.

His creative juices flowed much slower in the morning.

"I don't like him neither," Murphy agreed with a nod her head. "I like the one with your belt!"

"My belt? The title belt?" He grinned again, handing the toy to Vaughn once more as he looked over at his middle daughter. "You think it's mine?"

"Isn't always?"

Not since Mania, but whatever.

Grinning, he tapped Vaughn on the head before saying, "That, baby, is how you get out of having to go to school. Take notes."

As Vaughn glared at her though, Murphy only shook her head and said, "No, Daddy, I don't wanna not go to school. I want you to buy me a tent so I can sleep-"

"Murph, sometime in the next few weekends," he sighed, giving in, like always, "I'll buy us a big tent and all of us can go camp in the backyard. You, me, Mommy, your sisters, and Bluto." The dog, who was lounging on the kitchen floor, barked at his name. "Okay?"

"Really?" That got her to perk up. "We can?"

"Only if you promise to never go outside without-"

"I don't do that."

"Kid, I catch you doing it half the time! Me! Personally!" He was at a loss. "Just...promise, okay? And no more lying either."

"I don't do that either."

"Murphy-"

"I promise, Daddy." She was all smiles though as she went back to her breakfast. "I won't do it no more."

"Anymore," he corrected before looking down at his other daughter who was, in that moment, bashing poor Triple H over the head with the ketchup bottle (so she ate ketchup on her eggs; Paul's kids weren't weird, so don't even think it) as he laid on the table, her having put both his feet and arms in the air, as if he were playing dead. Seeing this, Paul let out a low groan before moving to bend down next to her, so they could talk face to face.

"Vaughn," he said, tone rather solemn. She was holding the bottle in the air, ready to bring it back down on the toy, but stopped midway to stare at him. "Baby, why do you keep beating up poor Triple H here? Huh? What did he do to you?"

"Barbie nurse-"

"It hurts my feelings, baby. To see you beat up on my toy like this." He made a face at her. "Are you mad at me? For going away? Is that it?"

He'd dealt with that before. A lot actually. Especially when Aurora first started school and found out she couldn't travel as much with them. That really made her hate his job for a bit.

"No." She only blinked at him. "Triple H is supposed to get beat up, Daddy."

"He's supposed to get hit by cars? And have huge ketchup bottles hit him?"

Nodding, she said, "He does lots of bad stuff and is still okay. He likes it."

"I don't...like being hit by a car."

"Not Daddy Triple H. This Triple H." She brought the ketchup bottle down on him again. "He likes gettin' hurt. Then Barbie nurse can heal him."

"But why does he like getting hurt?"

"I dunno." She was finished beating up on the toy then and went back to eating. "He just does. So that he can be taken care of."

"Can't...Barbie nurse take care of him without him getting mauled every five seconds?"

"Then he'd be being a big baby." She grinned at him. "He's gotta get hurt so he can get better and then get hurt again and get taking care of."

Paul was a bit weak on her logic, but only asked, "Then you're not...beating up the doll for some...weird...deeper...uh...thing? It's just because you like for the girl doll to nurse him back to health? Not because you don't like him or something?"

Shaking her head, she said, "It's my favorite toy."

That week. She'd lose it, eventually, but given the high amount of other Triple H's laying around, she wouldn't be too broken up by it.

"Paul," he heard his wife complaining at him as he was bending over, kissing Vaughn's head. "You have to get going. Your shoes aren't even on. You have to-"

"I'm going, don't worry." Ruffling his youngster's hair then, he said, "You gotta go to school for now, kid, but summer's right around the corner. Then you can go with me everywhere. Promise."

Which, honestly, in two weeks when school was all done and over with, she wouldn't want to do because she'd have fallen in love once more with things other than constantly hanging off her father's arm, begging for attention.

If he hit her back up, oh, about mid to late August, when school was starting again, she'd be all about that once more.

"But where's Rora?" he asked after going to the other side of the table to hug and make some promises to Murphy too, though all she cared about at that point was her tent, which, she specified, better be pink or else.

He tried not to gulp.

"I don't know. Getting ready, I guess." Steph was in full business mode then, all decked out in her work clothes and that intent glint her eyes. If he didn't have to honestly head out, he'd have probably tried to get her to go back upstairs with him and, uh, take another shower for cleanliness reasons and such. "She's not in the shower anymore, I know that. Probably in her room."

Which was good. Paul needed to head that way to put on his shoes anyways.

"Rora," he called out far too loudly for it to be so early and got a gripe from Steph, all the way in the kitchen, about how if he never used his inside voice why would the girls (to which Murphy suggested, quite loudly as well, they should all just move outside, and got a chorus of noes from her younger sister and mother). "Are you in here?" He came to a stop outside her bedroom door when he got to it, knocking his knuckles gently against it. "Are you ready for school? 'cause I got a question for you."

It only took a moment for the door to be opened and, when it did, he laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"Why's your hair so tangled today?" he asked as she'd opened the door with a brush in her other hand, tugging at her brown locks. "What'd you do to it?"

"Nothing!" She was in her worked up mode and glared at him for finding a situation that was completely bothersome to her so funny. "But it's all matted and I still have to go eat breakfast and-"

"Rora, calm down." Paul, having years of experience with his own hair (though, according to Vaughn, he never was anything other than bald), knew such struggles. "Go sit down at your desk and I'll get it all right for you, huh?"

That was probably the only useful thing he brought to the table, being the father of only daughters; the man knew hair.

He just did.

"You're lucky you got such a short haircut, you know that? It makes this a lot easier." Paul was trying to be supportive. It wasn't easy. Which led him to his next statement, as roads led back to himself. Always. "You know, when my hair was, like, at its longest-"

"I don't want to hear about your hair. Again."

Oh.

So maybe when they went out for burgers the night before, after Vaughn's little revelation, Paul talked (in length, no pun) about his flowing locks.

Until Murphy called him boring and he discussed, instead, why puppies were better than kittens.

A statement, as he found out, his youngest two were for and his oldest was against.

He fell on the fence.

But only so Rora didn't feel completely alone.

"Then let me ask you that question then, huh?" Paul really didn't want to, but he was going out of town, and he'd fixed up all the other loose ends, so obviously he had no choice but to ask, "Would you rather have to eat an entire horse? Or...uh, dang, I had one… Oh. Would you rather eat an entire horse or have to lick a cactus?"

Aurora was unimpressed. Tilting her head back to stare at him, she said, "Daddy, that's not a very good one," but through some giggles and she was grinning pretty big, because he was cooperating finally.

It always took a bit to get him on the right page, but she typically was able to eventually.

"Paul! You have got to go!"

Steph wasn't playing either, then. He'd left Aurora after about fifteen or twenty minutes (after tons of hugs, of course) and was getting his bag and shoes.

"You have got," he grumbled as he found her in the living room, where she was supervising Murph and Vaughn getting their shoes on (if you didn't watch, Murphy would try to tie both their shoelaces together and then claim, without sneakers, they couldn't go to school; regardless of the fact his daughters owned, like, five pairs each at least), "to be the most insistent person I know."

"I'm so sorry that I want you out of the door on time," Steph snapped right back. "You know- Mmm, Paul."

He'd come over, of course, to give her a hug and kiss goodbye of her own. Murphy and Vaughn giggled at this, over at the couch, where the older was looking for the opportunity to do that shoe trick again (it would work one day, she just knew it), but Paul and Steph only stared at one naother.

"I'll see you when I get back, huh?" He still had an arm wrapped around her then and, pulling her closer, leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'm sure your thoughts of, uh, two of me can keep you sated until then."

She placed a soft blow to his chest for that, but glancing over at their daughters found they were back to staring at the cartoons on the television, shoes all tied (separately), and just about ready for the day finally.

"You all alone," she mumbled just as softly back, "is probably the only time you can actually do what you want though."

"What do you mean?"

"It's the only time you can...touch...yourself without..." But she was giggling too much, at her own stupid joke (that made no sense; he'd said he couldn't touch _the other him_ , not himself personally) and couldn't finish.

Oh, the woman annoyed him, but she was still his.

"You work on your book some while I'm gone, huh?" Paul gave Steph a kiss to the head when she was finished with her teasing before going to give each of his babies one more hug.

"You make sure you have permission before leaving the house for any reason, okay?" was his one instruction to Murphy. To Vaughn, it was, "And you make sure that Barbie nurse sets Hunter up right, okay?"

After an affirmative nod from them all and three replies of how much they loved him, he went to the bottom of the stairs to call the same thing up to Rora before, after giving Bluto a head pat and stern warning to look out for their girls, he was gone.

And to add to the already long list of things he'd be doing for the next two days, he needed to also find a nice, big pink tent for them to stay the night in (plus either figure a way to convince Steph that would be fun as well as his other daughters or convince Murph it'd be even better minus...whoever it was that didn't want in, which would probably actually be Bluto).

He would give it to his girls though. They did prepare him for one thing on his two days away. He'd never watched crossing the street quite that much since he was kid…

* * *

 **So...originally this was going to be a suggestion that I got talking about how Steph said in one of her QandAs that she asked Paul first, if she could share some things, but I needed a lead in for that, which was just gonna be Paul playing with the kids before Steph came into the room, but somehow it morphed into his own little problems with each child that had to be sorted out so, now here we are, at ten thousand words.**

 **No regrets.**

 **Still got other requests, but more are always welcome.**


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